A Peace Hard Won
by Glycerine Boone
Summary: Always at the center of a great and terrible storm, Calissa "Calamity" Shepard settles into an unexpected and unwelcome life of domesticity whilst awaiting trial on Earth. Rated M for language and the occasional sex scene.
1. Chapter 1

Garrus Vakarian sat in the living room of his partner's rented apartment, leaning back into the sofa and watching the television. It was morning, light filtering in through the tinted window overlooking part of Renteil, one of Bekenstein's premier industrial centers. Garrus sighed, flipping the channel to a morning news program. He settled in as a number of news stories began to scroll down the screen in several columns sorted into topic and subject. He selected a few with the remote and they began to play.

What followed was less than reassuring. Much like each day before it, the newsnet was little more than an assortment of stories and vid-logs cataloguing the declining state of galactic affairs. In front of a baroque cathedral of some kind, a batarian pundit publicly denounced Alliance efforts at conciliation regarding the destruction of a mass relay by public figure Commander Calissa "Calamity" Shepard, and called for the impending tribunal to convict her on all charges. Garrus understood the tribunal was necessary for the Alliance to avoid open war with the batarians, who had been searching for a reason to shed human blood since that species' emergence onto the galactic scene such a short time ago. Yet, Garrus could not help but feel Shepard had been abandoned and betrayed by every major organization she had put her faith in, much like him. First the Citadel Council disavowed the Reaper threat despite the enormous efforts of her and her crew leading to the defeat of rogue Spectre Saren Arturias. As if that wasn't enough, she gave her life in service, only to be brought back by Cerberus, which promptly cut ties with her when she no longer met their needs. Now, the Alliance was looking to sentence her to death for the 'reckless waste of life' in postponing the imminent Reaper invasion. Garrus had seen the Reapers with his own eyes, heard them speak of the impending doom of all life in the galaxy. His will almost broke remembering just how much had been lost to this crusade already, and his mind swam thinking of what was still to come.

Watching such fear-mongering newsnet broadcasts made his muscles ache from months of fighting and stress, and old wounds long-healed flared into phantom, painful memories of their infliction. He reached up to his face, rubbing the uneven texture of his cheek and forehead, scorched and twisted from an incendiary missile blast. He tried not to recall the incident, having been no closer to death than in that one moment, prostrated on a cold floor, coughing up and choking on his own blood.

"You're up early," a voice came from behind him, a warm reminder that the tale being told on the back of his eyelids had a happier ending.

"Couldn't sleep," he replied, still fixed on the television, only half perceiving it from tiredness and being elsewhere in his mind. Calamity sidled up to the couch and sat herself down, her dyed-black hair loosely gathered behind her ears. She was still in her underclothes, black and lacy. It reminded Garrus of their first night together not so long ago. She leaned up against his arm, moving her body closer to his. She watched the television for a few moments.

"Turn it to something else," she demanded coldly. Garrus only half realized they were watching a report on her and her exploits prior to her recruitment as a Spectre. It was the same 'insider documentary' that aired all the time, with most of the data supplied by Alliance types with loose lips.

"Sorry," he apologized, quickly changing it to some kind of religious ceremony presided over by hanar. Neither showed much interest, so Garrus turned it to a police drama, the kind older humans supposedly watched. She didn't say anything immediately, so he assumed it was acceptable.

Her skin felt nice against his, bringing back memories of the nights they'd spent together since the Omega 4 mission. She was so soft to the touch, smooth and brightly colored. When he had first seen her in her entirety, her body was bruised and beaten, scarred and torn. Since, she had healed, leaving flush, rose-colored lines on her skin, feeling like a cloth map to his touch. Three years having known her only in battle, he accepted this side of her, the vulnerability, softness, warmth, and the moments of peace. It was like she became an entirely different person, at odds with the scale and stakes of any mission she undertook; every pull of the trigger, every confrontation altered hundreds of fates across the galaxy.

And here he was, the one being in existence she allowed this close; no armor, no weapons, no pretense of command. He wondered what she thought of him, what had drawn her to him. He assumed at first it was sexual, her sudden and unexpected advance during the mission requiring clarification. Now he wasn't sure of anything, where he belonged in her life or even his own. Archangel was dead, the Cerberus mission at an end, with Calamity awaiting trial on Earth. She never spoke much about herself, what went on in her head, how she was handling the tenuous position she occupied between the Council, Cerberus, and the Alliance. She hardly spoke at all. Garrus reasoned Calamity was much like him, having spent so much time in the storm that the quiet seemed strange and mocking. To simply sit on a sofa, in an apartment on a world that wasn't plagued by war, watching television; it seemed like some kind of dream.

She pulled her knees in, hips rubbing against his pajama slacks. He slowly threw an arm over her shoulder, letting her lean in until her head was in his lap. As she watched the droll, uninteresting story unfold, he ran a finger through her hair, combing it back over her ear. She hardly moved, but made no protest. Feius, the Donaldson's' cat, came into view, stretching out on the carpet in front of the television. Calamity had promised to look after him while they were away on vacation. The orange and white tabby was especially fond of Garrus, rubbing up against his legs and climbing into his lap unannounced. The Donaldson's' hadn't recognized Calamity for who she was, so the two couples had come to be friends in the months since the crew of the SR2 had parted ways. The Donaldson's' were an older couple with two sons well into their thirties. Frederick had been a starship engineer for Nashan Stellar before his retirement, while Lisa worked part time as a receptionist at his old firm. They made for an odd double date, but Lisa had pushed them into more social outings. To hide her identity, Calamity dyed her hair black and wore it longer than usual, to look, as she put it, 'more ladylike'. Her muscular arms and shoulders would make that hard in her small wardrobe of strapless dresses and low-cut gowns, but female ex-military weren't so uncommon on Bekenstein that it would be a dead giveaway.

Calamity twisted around so that her face pointed up at the ceiling, Garrus' hand still cradling her in his lap. She gave him a faint smile that brought a spark of happiness.

"We should get some breakfast," she suggested, prodding him in the stomach absently.

"Where?" he asked, contemplating each subtle curve of her cheek and mouth, exploring with his eyes.

"I liked the Galaxy Diner. Simple, and cheap."

"Sounds good," he said. The two of them sat for a while yet, unwilling to move. Calamity pressed her cheek against his stomach, the soft breaths from her nose tickling him. "I'm going to clean up," he said, moving carefully out from under her. She lay on the couch as he made his way to the bathroom, eager for a shower to wash away all the erroneous thoughts, eager for a fresh start. Feius watched him as he went, rolling over onto his stomach and letting out a yawn. The cat looked at Calamity, who gave him a look of boredom, but also of comfort. She sat up and stretched her arms above her head, yawning and moving to stand. Her joints popped in several places, working out the stiff spots until she moved more fluidly. Sighing, she walked to the bathroom, leaving Feius to stare up at the television, idly watching the colorful pictures and scrolling script.

Garrus was already in the shower stall with the water running on 'Hot', steaming up the bathroom mirrors. The walls and cabinets were off-white with white towel racks, leaving the whole thing feeling a bit sterile to Calamity. Garrus had heard her come in, registering only a moment of recognition before continuing to bathe himself. Calamity stared in the chest-height mirror, examining her facial scars, crow's feet, and worry lines. She huffed, ruffling her hair up for a few moments before looking again. She smiled, strands of black shooting off in whatever direction they pleased. She smoothed her hair back and stripped in short order. She looked at herself in the standing mirror set into the back of the door. She was pale, with pink scars all over her body; shrapnel wounds, bullet scars, burn scars. She considered that other women might have them removed, what with cosmetic tech being as advanced as it was, but she considered the irregular lines and splotches her life's story. No words could recount her life in such a way that these scars could, plus it helped her match her man, she thought with a smile. She missed the bullet-path scar that used to run across the bridge of her nose, having earned that particular mark from Torfan, the grim mission that begat her meteoric rise. Cerberus had taken that mark from her, but given her new life. Primping, she pressed her breasts together, holding them in place with her biceps. She gave the mirror a sultry look before her shoulders sank in disappointment. Anything bigger and it'd interfere with her aim, she thought, not to mention the back problems.

Still, there was one mark in particular that caught her eye. On the areola of her left breast, a little purple scar stared back at her. She remembered her first night with Garrus, mere hours before the Omega 4 mission. She had teased him a little too long, and he bit down on her without realizing just how tender her skin was. He apologized vociferously afterwards. She found his nervousness cute, in stark contrast to his usual intense moods.

Even now, naked, only a few feet from the first man she ever really loved, Calamity Shepard considered the insanity of it all. She thought about his hard angles, the rough texture of his bony collar, the toughness of his skin, his slender but strong hands. She stepped up to the shower stall and opened the door, stepping inside. Garrus moved back enough to give her some room, almost leaning against the wall, slick with water. Calamity bathed herself for a few minutes, lost in thought, while Garrus did much the same. The warm water melted away the bad thoughts plaguing her every waking moment. The heat from Garrus' body radiated out, more intense than the running water. She breathed in the unique scent his body gave off, like burnt cinnamon. Her head swam, wondering how she had come to find comfort in his rough body.

As if to add poignancy to her conflicting thoughts, she felt his hands on her shoulders, his mouth inches from her neck. Slow, hard breaths tickled the skin of her nape, eyelids flickering and toes curling. She wanted to turn around, put her hands on his chest, but Garrus pinned her against the wall, running hands up her back and sides. Her breath was heavy with expectation, awaiting the forbidden pleasures he would inflict upon her.

She could sense his frustration at not being able to enter her as he would a woman of his own species, the conflicting nature of their genetics making each other's fluids toxic. She yearned for him to plunder her right then and there, but his will was good. A talon snaked its way down her stomach, meandering inexorably towards her sensitive opening. He slipped it inside her, as pleasant exultations emitted from her lips. Her body tightened as he pushed deeper inside her.

"God," she moaned, taking his hand and coaxing him further. Garrus laughed quietly between his own heavy exhalations. If a sapient species had sex for pleasure, and had a concept of a god or gods, it never mattered; they would always be called out in the throes of passion. He pleasured himself at her writhing and moaning, basking in every induced spasm and heady gasp. She was nearly there, judging from each high-pitched moan. He still had some ways to go, waves of primal instinct washing over him, anticipating release. He removed his talon from within her, tugging on her hips until she rounded on him. Back pressed against the wall, she looked up into his eyes, then down at his manhood.

She wanted him inside her, she felt so close. They could just as easily get a condom and be safe, but such a thing was the furthest from their minds. He pressed into her, uncaring of the consequences. She positively howled as he spent little time working into her, his throat rumbling hotly. Her legs wrapped around his narrow waist, and hands grasping his bony collar, her body rocking with his in a rhythm older than either of their civilizations. Garrus hid it from himself even now, deep inside her, but he felt nothing for other human women, his lust powered purely by his strong attachment. She had saved his life, opened her heart to him when he had been marred by battles both physical and emotional. There was no one else in the galaxy more deserving of his attention or his love. Even so, he still questioned her feelings for him; what she hoped might come of this doomed pairing. He placed his head on her shoulder, thrusting again and again until he felt climax well up inside him. Throaty rumbles reverberated throughout his entire body, each ending in a sharp bark. She held his head, stroking his fringe roughly whilst barely able to withhold climax.

She called out to him, to God, to whoever was listening. She knew it brought out the beast in him, took his performance to that next level. She had teased him into sex multiple times since the Omega mission, once the night after, then the following day. Without warning, she would seduce him, finding joy in how quickly he had adapted to the human style of lovemaking. Perhaps he hadn't been with too many turian girls; she hadn't asked. It didn't seem important, as her concentration faded once again, filled entirely with his throbbing length. She melted in his arms. Five years with little more than a pair of asari booty calls, Calamity had forgotten the touch of a man on her skin, the strength with which they made love. She had little left within her to hold on, and screamed out after three short inhalations. Her entire body was on fire, nerves flaring over every inch of her skin. Muscles tightened, pulling him in as hard as she could. Biotic flames lapped the surface of her skin, a purple glow welling up from within.

Garrus struggled to free himself, barely in control of his rampaging desire. He could feel short strands of seed begin to drip from his member, but Calamity did little but to hug him close, welcoming it. Clenching his mandibles closed, he thrust into her one last time, filling her over and over again. Stars hovered in his vision, his hearing fading, almost drowning out a low roar. The strength left his legs, and he wobbled for a moment. They both were short of breath, waiting for their wind to return. Calamity pushed past him, Garrus having little left to resist, his drive spent. Milky purple seed thinned with water ran down the inside of her legs. Still weak, she began to clean herself out. She cursed quietly under her breath.

"Was it worth it?" Garrus asked, closing his eyes and basking in the afterglow. She beamed, clearly pleased.

"Absolutely," she stated, continuing to wash out what was left of Garrus' seed. "Just to be safe, call the doctor." Garrus quickly stepped out of the shower, dashing for the phone with drops of water hitting the carpet. Calamity imagined the conversation he would have with the physician, followed by the likely safety lecture. _Worth it_, she thought to herself, _definitely worth it._


	2. Chapter 2

Calamity sat in the relatively out-of-the-way diner, with Garrus across from her. She ate heartily the full meal in front of her: eggs, bacon, toast, a selection of fruit and a glass of whole milk. Looking around him, Garrus could not spot another human woman eating such a large meal. He, too, had a sizeable portion sitting in front of him of less recognizable dextro-amino compatible foods. He reasoned they were soldiers unaccustomed to ample meals, and relished this kind of opportunity. Calamity eyed his food cautiously as he did of hers. They'd hardly said a word to each other all day, apart from the heated exchange whilst in the shower. Calamity tried to drown out with food the mild discomfort welling up in her nether regions from the admittedly irresponsible sexual act. The doctor had indeed scolded Garrus for his recklessness, despite how little his fault it actually was. Calamity caught the last minute or so of the lecture and teased him mercilessly afterwards.

"What're we doing after this?" Calamity asked, having powered through her eggs and toast. Garrus swallowed his current mouthful.

"I might go down to the Elanus Risk Control building for a while," he said matter-of-factly. "I've been putting off getting the Widower a professional checkup for too long." Calamity knew he was just being evasive, but that had characterized their relationship so far.

"Ok," she said simply, having some of the milk. She looked around the diner while at a loss for conversation. She thought about pushing Garrus to open up a bit more, but it wasn't the right venue. They were already catching a few wandering eyes from the mostly human customers currently dining, although she doubted they would assume the two of them were a couple.

"What have you got planned?" he asked, reading an extranet news pad.

"I might come with you," she said, starting at her bacon and fruit. Garrus flinched a bit, after which she added, "I need to get the omni-blade software up and running. Elanus does that sort of thing." He seemed to let it go.

The rest of the meal passed in relative silence before the pair returned to the apartment to gather up their equipment. Garrus stored his dismantled rifle in a steel case and coded it with his customs license. Calamity simply followed along, already having her omni-tool installed. Garrus was sitting in one of the armchairs in the living room, with Feius on his lap, making sure he had everything when Calamity walked up beside him and touched his arm. He turned to see Calamity's fire-red eyes looking down at him, dressed as she was in her military blues.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, tilting his head. He knew the tension had been building over breakfast, and expected some kind of confrontation.

"Listen… I'm going to let you go alone," she said. "But when you get back, we should talk." She meant it, and the seriousness was plain on her face, clouded as it was with concern.

"Oh… you got it," Garrus said, chewing his own words. He felt like he had upset her, but knew better than to press the issue just now. She left to go to the study, while he left to the ERC building just a moment later.

While sitting on the tram leading to Renteil's upper city, he couldn't help but think of Calamity. He knew this conversation would have to come sooner or later, in the midst of everything that had happened and would happen. He wanted to leave it just the way it was. At least when they were at war, fighting was a welcome distraction from difficult conversations. Here, there was no escape, no easy way out. He thought about what he intended to tell her, what she might tell him.

Buried in his thoughts, Garrus tried to piece together his feelings. First and foremost, he respected her as a friend and officer. She got the job done when it needed doing and never shied away from confrontation, and never turned him down when he needed help. In a way, she knew him better than anyone else in the galaxy, what drove him and what held him back. He felt uncomfortable with the idea of her seeing right through him, just how much she had influenced him in recent years, but… every quiet moment he spent with her in his arms, he wouldn't give them up for anything. A soothing klaxon sounded, breaking him from his private reverie.

"Upper Renteil Economic Zone," the simulated voice of the tram's VI cooed, as the doors parted. Passengers pressed into and off the tram in equal measure.

Walking through the Economic Zone, Garrus continued on with his thoughts. None of it made sense to him, how he felt, how things had gotten this far. When it began, he was weak, vulnerable at a crucial time. Killing Sidonis has soothed his aching pride somewhat, but he still couldn't forgive himself for his failure to protect his men. He had felt lonely and guilty before she had stridden into the forward battery that day, and when she suggested they 'blow off steam'… his barriers came crashing down. There was no way he could say no. He remembered the words he'd said the night before the Omega 4 jump. _I just want something to go right_, he'd told her. _My work at C-Sec, Sidonis_, he had continued to ramble. She had cried soundlessly at this declaration, tears streaming from her fiery, cybernetic eyes. He remembered it perfectly: her sweet scent, the softness of her hands on his face, the moist kisses she gave him. He stopped, realizing how fast his heart was hammering inside his chest. Was he in love? Was that what this was? Then why was he so afraid of it?

A krogan shouldered past him on the thoroughfare, making him drop the case he held. The krogan said something crude, continuing past him.

"Screw you too, buddy!" Garrus shouted, far angrier then he should have been at such a minor slight. Turning, the krogan strode back, looming over him.

"What did you say?" the krogan bellowed. "I couldn't hear you."

"I said, _screw you_," Garrus growled with slow deliberation. "What, are you deaf, or just stupid?"

"Change your tone before I change it _for_ you," the krogan said with a sneer. Garrus snapped. Before he knew what had happened, his fist came flying up under the krogan's chin, snapping his head back with a wet _crack_. The krogan stumbled back a few steps before regaining his composure. He shook his head then roared, charging the smaller turian down. Garrus threw a precise haymaker into the side of the krogan's face, another fleshy crack preceding the krogan dropping to the ground. A small crowd was beginning to form around the two of them, human laborers on their way to work.

"Get up," Garrus threatened, kicking the krogan in the gut. "I said, get up!" Despite his size, the much larger krogan was thoroughly dazed and well on his way to losing consciousness. The pitiful display forced Garrus to step back. He was appalled at himself. A number of the crowd was cheering him on, as the krogan started to stand back up, wobbly. He looked for his dropped case, a few feet away. He wanted to run. Before he knew it, a fist caught him across the jaw, forcing him to stumble to the side, his vision blurring for a moment. Two more crosses knocked him to the ground, before he could hear the krogan insult his parentage and make a number of other erroneous assertions.

He got to his feet, looking dazed. The krogan went for another strike, when Garrus dropped the ruse, dodging to one side and locking the krogan's arm. He took three sharp strikes to side of the krogan's face before he dropped in a heap of muscle and bone. Garrus tried to catch his breath, while his head ached and face stung. It wouldn't be long before the police arrived, so he quickly snatched up his case and pushed through the ring of spectators. _What's wrong with me?_ His mind raced for the answer.

Calamity sat in the study, with Feius hovering near her feet. She absently stroked the cat's back, mouth twisted up in contemplation and frustration. She waited for Garrus to return, to have the difficult talk they'd been putting off for some time.

It was nothing short of a miracle the two of them had come back from the Omega 4 job, something she guessed neither of them expected. The night they had shared beforehand felt like a goodbye between them, one last act of earthly intimacy before death reared up to claim them. All the while she fought that day, there was the lingering hope they would spend another night together. When fate had granted that wish, neither of them knew what exactly to do with their new lease on life, like they had both come back from the dead a second time.

Feius yowled, scorning her for not paying attention to him. She rubbed his ears to keep him quiet, looking lazily over a number of mission reports she'd have to have memorized for her trial. Her stomach knotted in hatred and indignity, the bastards who were too blind to know what was for their own good setting her up to fall. She tossed the datapad across the room, Feius bolting through the door a split second later. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she began to cry. When Garrus wasn't around, she had taken to crying a lot lately. Years of constant scrutiny and crushing expectations had taken their toll, yet she still had the discipline to allow her despair release only in such quiet and private moments. She pressed her palms into her eyes, sobbing, wiping the tears away every few seconds. Her ocular implants were in bad shape, her tears mixed with small amounts of blood. She cared little, having bled so much already for a galaxy too ignorant to see the doom rising to consume it. They demonized her even as their politicians and leaders praised her. _Two-faced jackasses_, she thought to herself, clenching her fists against her brow. Not every action she had taken was noble or conciliatory, but no one could argue with the results. Her enemies died, enemies who, as she put it, 'threatened galaxies'. She'd come so far from Mindoir, little more than a farming colony; so far, only to fall in the end not with a bang, but a whisper. The disappointment was absolutely devastating.

Wallowing in self-pity and cheeks stained by bloody tears, she heard the door slide open. Shocked, she looked up to see Garrus standing in the doorway, disheveled and his face bloodied.

"Garrus," she sniffed, fighting back the tears. "What the hell happened to you?" She stood up, putting a hand to his chin and turning his face as he winced. "You're hurt."

"And you've been crying," he said quietly, a talon rubbing her sticky cheek. "I think we need to have that talk." Calamity laughed out, though it sounded bitter, but also relieved.

"Yeah. Yeah I think so, too," she said, her eyes still watering and unwilling to meet his gaze from shame. He held her chin and lifted it, looking deep into her eyes.

"Come on," he said. Together, they retired to the bedroom.


	3. Chapter 3

Garrus lay opposite Calamity, the two of them half-dressed and tousled from their emotionally charged tumble. The strangeness of their sexual life wasn't lost on either of them, such physical expression of their feelings the only comfortable communication between them. Garrus stroked her side, pulling her a little closer until her chest was pressing against his. Their legs intertwined and she sighed.

"Ok," she nearly whispered. "I'm ready." Garrus closed his eyes.

"Me too." There was a long pause.

"What happened to you today?" she asked, her eyes fixed on his chest and collar.

"Got into a fight with a krogan on the boulevard."

"Why?" she asked, incredulously.

"I don't know. He pushed me and I just snapped. I… I was thinking about you and that first night and I just couldn't control myself." She considered this for a while.

"It made you angry… thinking about me," she said, hugging him. "Why?"

"I don't know," he answered, defeated. "I really don't."

"Think harder," she urged. He lay quietly for a minute.

"It's hard to put into words," he lied. He knew exactly what he wanted to say.

"You're lying," she stated, seeing straight through him. "You don't have to lie. We're safe; you can tell me."

"I can't, not with everything that's happened," he said with a gulp. He felt sadness wash over him, but his species was unable to cry. He understood the gesture in humans, but there was no easy way to express it.

"Damnit, Garrus," she said quietly. "Why do you have to be so stubborn all the time?" Her nails bit into his chest, tightening up into a fist. "Why can't you trust me?" He had no good answer for that, the truth being he didn't trust himself.

"Everything that matters to me goes wrong," he said, letting slip more than he intended.

"This again?" she said. "I understand that you've lived a hard life, Garrus, but you can't keep on living with nothing to live for!" Her voice was louder and more animated than before. His face lit up, shocked.

"I… I don't know what to say." He meant it.

"What am I to you?" she asked, speaking more rapidly. He could feel her quake in his arms. He held her tightly, the answer coming to him. He struggled for a long moment before letting it out.

"My savior," he said finally, his voice warbling. "You're the only person in the galaxy who ever took the time to hear me out, to help me. As long as I've been alive, it's been about self-reliance and service to the greater good," he said, mocking his father's tone as he spoke. She could sense his anger. "But at the end of the day, all I've got is the bones of my colleagues and the scorn of my family."

"Garrus…" she whispered.

"You cared about me, showed compassion when I had nothing but hate for the world and the scum in it. You showed me that I could be something, that I mattered more than just another cog in the great galactic machine." He surprised himself at how quickly and naturally this all was coming. "I think… I think I love you, Calamity." He could hear her start to cry again.

"Don't cry," he urged softly.

"No, it's ok," she assured him between stifled bouts of tears. "Sometimes humans cry because we're happy."

"So you're happy?" he asked, stroking her hair.

"Yes, Garrus. Yes. I'm happy." She held herself close to him, letting her tears soak into his skin. Hearing those words from him made all the difference in the world.

"Were you crying because you were happy earlier?" he asked, now questioning it with his new knowledge.

"No, I wasn't. I was upset," she said in between sharply inhaled breaths. Garrus knew why; he didn't have to ask. Minutes passed as her sobbing quieted and slowed, until she breathed peacefully.

"I was angry because I don't want to lose you," Garrus said suddenly, breaking the silence.

"What?"

"Earlier. I got angry out on the street because… I'm afraid to lose you again." He tensed up. "I couldn't stop thinking about how close you've come to being killed. I've watched you get shot, watched you come back from the dead. It was driving me crazy, and that krogan just pushed me over the edge."

"I understand," she said. "At night, I can't stop thinking about the job on Omega, how you almost didn't make it." She trailed off. "My hands were stained blue for a week. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you now."

"You'd manage," he said coldly.

"How can you say that?" she nearly shouted, pushing away from him. "You _motherfucker_, how can you _say_ that?" She hit him on the chest, her fit of tears rising back to the surface. Garrus was stunned, unable to comprehend. He thought she'd move on if he didn't make it through this in one piece. He didn't want to hold her back.

"I don't understand," he said weakly.

"It's been absolute hell," she growled. "I do so much for the goddamn people of this good-for-nothing galaxy, and what do I get in return? Bullshit, all of it bullshit." She gestured wildly with her hands. "First the batarians took Mom, Dad, and Jonah, then Torfan took all of my friends!" She was bitter, and it radiated from her in waves, her knees pulled up to her chest. "Commander Shepard, big _fucking_ hero, am I right?" She looked to Garrus, and her pitiful eyes spoke volumes that left the pit of his stomach churning from guilt. She sat for a few tense seconds, shaking her head. "What's the point? Everyone goes away in the end."

"Calamity, I had no idea," Garrus tried to say. Calamity sharply inhaled, trying to regain her composure.

"It's just so lonely, Garrus," she finally said, quiet as a mouse. "You're all I've got. Liara moved on, and I've got no family. My only friends are a bunch of killers and mercenaries." She grabbed him and held him tightly. "I can't lose you. I just can't."

"Calamity…" he whispered in her ear. "I'll be here as long as you need me."

"Don't make promises you can't _keep_," she scolded. "But… I think I might love you too, Garrus Vakarian." He had no more words to offer her in recompense. The two of them spent the evening wrapped around each other, just letting the air clear. Together, they expected the morning to be brighter than either of them had ever known.

When the sun rose over Renteil, Garrus and Calamity stood in the window, watching the day come upon them. Every now and again, they stole glances at one another, smiling all the while.

"Where do we go from here?" Calamity asked. "We're still fighters. We could die any day."

"Might as well make today count, then," Garrus said with a chuckle. He pulled her into him and gave her the closet thing he could approximate to a kiss, little more than a wet lick on her chin. She laughed playfully, kissing him where his mouth would be, were he human.

"Come on," she said, laughing. "Stop, come on!" She let out a little squeak as his hands bit into her hips. He pinched her then let go, having had his fun.

"You bastard," she quipped with a soft punch in the arm, still beaming despite herself. She turned back to the window, the sun lighting up her face. "We're going to be ok, aren't we?"

"For now," Garrus said resolutely. "Hard to say what's coming on the horizon." He too stared out across the city as it roused itself for another day. "It's crazy, to think if we screw this up, all this," he gestured with the back of his hand, "would be gone. It just strains the imagination thinking up that kind of devastation."

"No pressure," she joked. Garrus shook his head.

"Guess if things go south, it's not like we'll be around to take the heat." She had to agree. It was bad enough being called to task for stopping two galactic threats already.

"Hey, we killed one, right? What's another hundred thousand?" She slumped, no longer wishing to even joke about this. Garrus picked up enough from her body language to let it slide.

"Listen, Calamity…" he started. "We don't have to stay here on Bekenstein. Sure the Normandy's gone but it wouldn't be too much trouble to take a shuttle somewhere."

"The Alliance will be super pissed if I run," she said. "Besides, where would we go? Palaven's too hot for me, and I'd like to be as far from Earth as possible."

"I don't know," he said. "We might not have all that much time before it starts to heat up again."

"Yeah," she admitted. There wouldn't always be room for a quick tumble in the sheets once the invasion got underway, assuming she wasn't in the brig on bullshit charges. There'd be even less room for heartfelt evenings or nights out on the town behind bars. Things would change, for better or worse she couldn't know.

"We could go to Mindoir," he suggested, carefully gauging her reaction. She seemed to think about it.

"No, maybe if we survive this mess. Yeah, maybe then."

"I didn't mean to dredge up bad memories," he apologized. "I thought maybe you'd want some closure before it goes up."

"I've had fourteen years to put that behind me, Garrus," she said. "It's always going to stick, but I moved on. I figure by doing what it is I do, I honor their memory." She sniffed, trying to suppress all the old feelings. "If it weren't for the Alliance, everybody on Mindoir would be dead or a slave, but… I feel like I've repaid that debt, enough so the memories seem faint. I remember more of the good times that came before it, less of the bad that came after. Probably better that way." Garrus understood. "What about you? Anywhere you want to go?"

"I've got nowhere left _to_ go," he said vacantly, as if staring into a faded photograph, trying to make out the details softened by time. "I've burned all my bridges. I'm going wherever you are." She gave his hand a squeeze, drawing him out of his private thoughts. He looked a little ashamed, but squeezed her hand back.

"We're in this together," she said, pits of fire gazing up at him.

"Sure, Shepard. Together." She smiled, knowing that his mind was still troubled by all of this. He worried about having to watch her die a second time, a thought he could not rid himself of. Pessimism had become the lens through which he viewed the galaxy, but next to him stood the one person he'd met who could defy that with regularity. It was hard to call what she did optimistic, but a problem solved with a bullet is still a problem solved. He pulled her close. "I want to see Earth," he said with fresh vigor. "Before it all goes to hell." She was a little surprised to hear this.

"Well, Garrus, I… I don't know if we can. They might detain me if we go there so soon, I mean, the tribunal isn't for another month."

"They have to know you're here on Bekenstein as it is," he reasoned. "The truth is they respect and fear you in equal measure. This whole trial is just a farce to save face with the batarians."

"Hackett had said as much," she admitted. "You think we'd be safe?"

"Hard to say," he shrugged. "But I haven't got much of a home anymore worth fighting for, nowhere I can put my feet down and feel like I belong."

"What about Palaven, your people?"

"There's nothing for me there," he said. "You know that. Solana could care less to see me, and my mother's mind is gone. My father hasn't been home in ages. The Vakarians are a dying breed, and their _lost son_ never was a very good turian. Who knows? Maybe he'd make a good human."

"You can't mean that," she said with concern.

"Yes I can," he replied. "You saw it yourself. The turian way of life is about serving the state and falling in line. I never could sit around and wait for the bureaucrats to get it done." He nodded, as if setting something in his mind. "Earth sounds like as good a home as any, and as long as you're there, I'm right there beside you."

"Garrus…" she whispered. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

"I've never wanted anything more," he said, his intense green eyes locking hers. "I've never wanted any_one_ more." She felt like crying, but part of her had wept enough in the past few days. Empowered once again, she made a decision.

"Ok, then. Let's get packed and order some tickets."

"Seriously? Right now?"

"Might as well make today count."


	4. Chapter 4

Garrus was accustomed to Spartan bunks on starships, but living on Alliance cruisers and the Normandy for some years had altered Calamity's opinion on the matter.

"This is a load of crap," she muttered, tossing around trying to fit into the bunk. "I had a goddamn Queen bed on the SR2." Garrus simply listened to her squirm from the bottom bunk, amused with her struggles. "How can you climb in there so snug like its no big deal?" she asked rhetorically, prepping to strike him should be reply with characteristic sass.

"Alliance types must be spoiled," he joked. Calamity immediately leaned over from above, flailing at him. Garrus held his arms up to protect his face, cackling like a maniac as she feebly beat him. Defeated, she simply rolled over and remained still, with only three inches between her face and the roof of the cabin. She had insisted on a last minute flight out of Renteil, and this was what her resoluteness had gotten her; a dingy bunk on the coach deck with barely enough room for the two of them. Still, she was enjoying this new phase of their relationship.

"I hope that sitter takes good care of the cat," she said. "I don't particularly want to get a call from the Donaldsons, telling me their cat's been dead for a week."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," he reassured her. "He can fend for himself if need be. We left the cupboards mostly stocked."

"Yeah, but what if he gets into _your_ food?" she sneered. "_Your_ food is liable to eat _him_."

"Like human cuisine is any more refined," he offered up in retort. "Everything you eat is so soft and mushy, like a paste or something."

"Our teeth aren't sharp enough to cut into that rough crap you eat," she leaned over, baring her teeth. "Shee?" she said. "No points, except for the canines." Garrus barred his set of fangs, then stuck out his tongue, teasing her. She giggled despite herself, sighing and looking a bit lost.

"What's on your mind?" Garrus asked after a short pause.

"Feels strange, going back to Earth for the first time since the academy," she said. "It's… humbling, I suppose."

"I know what you mean," he said.

"What was boot like for you?" she asked.

"Boot?"

"You know, basic training. I thought all turians had to join up when they turned 15 or some such."

"Yeah, we do," he said, readjusting himself in the bunk. "I don't know, it was training. I guess there's only so much to say about it. You go in soft and come out hard." She smiled a little, and he caught her pulling face. "Not what I meant. You have a dirty mind!"

"Guilty," she said, rolling back onto the bunk. "I still had a pretty thick country accent from living on Mindoir when I went to basic. The DI's all called me Hayseed."

"Hayseed?"

"It's slang for a rural person."

"Oh."

"It's kind of hard not to think of it and reminisce. I mean, I guess I owe a lot to the Alliance."

"Doesn't make it ok to set you up like this," he spat. She was touched by how angry he was.

"No, it doesn't," she agreed. "You have to consider that I've done some pretty questionable shit during my short tenure as a Spectre, though."

"You did what you had to," he stated.

"I'd like to believe that," she argued. "I really would."

"Why wouldn't you?"

"I'm good at my job, there's no doubt about that, but not having a CO handing down orders blurs the lines a lot." She trailed off for a moment. "You know what it's like to have mission commanders come to you because you're known for _ruthlessness_? I always had a job, but being _that_ commander, losing people for such minor gains… it grates after a while."

"Somebody has to do it," he said, trying to cheer her up. "Just think of all the good you've done, the specifics be damned."

"Maybe you're right, but it's never easy losing men." She trailed off, exasperated. "God, I can't handle being off duty like this. I don't know what to do with myself."

"Try and sleep some," Garrus suggested.

"No, too wired." She stared at some minor detail on the cabin ceiling, fiddling with it. "It's going to be a long couple of days. What do you do for fun on trips like this?"

"Work," he replied quickly. "Productive and it keeps my mind off things."

"What do you have to work on right now?" she asked, expecting him to come up with something.

"Nothing."

"Well, shit." The two of them lay quietly for a while. Garrus twiddled his thumbs idly while Calamity rotated her feet and toes in simple little patterns. "Want to fool around?"

"Sure," Garrus replied quickly, as if they'd both been thinking it anyways. Calamity hopped down quickly, squeezing into his bunk as best she could. There was enough space where she could lie astride him, with a knee on either side of his waist. Garrus squeezed her butt while she gave him kisses and stroked his fringe. There was no way they were going to get away with stripping in here, but it didn't matter so much. He untucked her shirt and let his bare talons trace up her back, enjoying the subtle shivers that shook her body. She kissed the scarred side of his face, feeling his manhood press against her stomach through his pants.

"Someone's excited," she teased.

"You started it," he returned. He bucked his hips up, catching her by surprise. She squeaked pleasantly, then laughed. She rubbed him through his pants, his eyes going black between quiet moans. "You sure you want to go down this road?" he asked. She hesitated for a moment.

"Just a quickie?" she suggested, unzipping her suit pants.

"You got it," Garrus replied happily. She slid out from the bunk and slipped her pants off, leaving on her pair of black 'boy short' panties. Garrus was unzipping himself when she leaned over him, excitingly taking his full length into her mouth without a moment's hesitation.

"Oh, wow," he let slip out. She laughed a little, stifled as it was with him in her mouth. "More of that please." She slid her lips off him and gave its full length a long lick, flicking off the tip.

"You can only go once," she informed him. "You do me first, then I'll finish you." He twisted up inside, excited but frustrated.

"Ok, so what do I do-" he began as she coaxed him out of the bunk. She climbed in, spreading her legs. Garrus could see she was already slick with anticipation, her scent heady and aromatic. "Oh…" He knelt down, taking in the sweet scent of her womanhood. He nuzzled it with his mouth, purring softly as she moaned from the vibration. She was fondling her breasts, biting her bottom lip with a smile. Garrus wrapped his hands around her thighs, teasing her through the fabric with his tongue. She quietly moaned, back arching into him. He pushed her legs together and yanked the underwear off with little ceremony. "Turn around," he instructed. She complied, knees planted on the insufficient mattress, presenting. Garrus snaked his tongue underneath, licking at the rosy button, which would unlock the sweetest of sounds and squirms.

Expectedly, she writhed at his attentions. Garrus grabbed her butt in his hands, pulling it apart, talons biting into her flesh. She stifled a pleasant squeak. He stopped for a moment, considering the unexplored pucker above her womanhood. Since their first night together, he'd browsed human pornography for inspiration or new techniques, embarrassing as it was. It was as good a time as any other to try out something different. He swirled his tongue around the tight opening.

"Oh my God, Garrus," she whispered. "_You're_ being _adventurous_."

"Should I stop?" he asked, more sly than sorry.

"_God_ no," she moaned. He tongued the opening, pressing ever so slightly into it. She laughed, almost like it tickled. "I wouldn't let just anybody do that to me," she informed. Garrus pushed his tongue deep inside her from the primal resentment percolating within him at the thought of her with another man. She gasped from the spontaneity of it. "Jesus," she gasped, feeling him deeper inside unexplored parts of her body than she had ever known. She played at her clitoris furiously, almost drawing blood from her bottom lip as she stifled the awaiting cries of ecstasy. Garrus pulled himself from within her, instead inserting two fingers. He slowly spread them apart, widening the opening before pushing into her and out a few more times. She exhaled pitifully, moments from climax. She sensed him speed up behind her, until suddenly he stopped. Confused, she turned her head to find him rooting through a bag. "What are you doing?" she asked, sweaty and upset.

"Hold on," he snapped. After a few seconds, he turned away from her, doing something she couldn't see from where she lay.

"What're you-" she started before he turned around. Dropping his pants, she could see he had one of their condoms already in place. Swooping down, he grabbed up her legs and pressed at her entrance with little fanfare. She whooped happily, toes curling as he spent little time penetrating her. He grunted whilst pushing into her, trying to stifle himself just as she was. The passengers in the neighboring bunks could probably hear them.

"What's gotten into you today?" she asked jokingly as he forced himself into her once again.

"It's me getting into you," he chided, pulling himself out before turning her over. She could feel his tip hovering at her pucker.

"Just go slow!" she whispered loudly, only a split second before he began to slip inside her. Her eyes widened and mouth went slack as he hesitated little going deeper in. Only a few moments passed before he began to gyrate, grunting as his hips slapped against her buttocks. She bit down on the bunk pillow, screaming into it as she came over several seconds. She could scarcely believe how good he felt despite the strangeness of it.

Garrus was beyond caring what particular orifice it was. It was tighter than he'd expected, the primary cause for his sudden shift in interest. The strain from exertion bled away a little more after each thrust until all he could feel was the tightness clamping down on him, and how much he craved it. He pulled her hips into his, dozens of times until he felt release approach.

"Calamity, I'm… almost…" he stuttered. Staccato sounds of surprise rolled up from his throat as he came, pressed as hard against her as he could manage. He grasped onto the orgasmic fire spreading out all over his body, snaking up and down every limb until he positively burst. Four distinct waves flowed out of him until he was spent. "Wow," he whispered after a few moments of collecting himself. "I liked that." She was limp beneath him, breathing in long, heavy gasps of air.

"You tell anyone we did that and I swear to God, I _will_ kill you," she threatened, still impaled on him. She waited for him to back up, unable to move herself out from the bunk whilst still hemmed in by her turian's weight. Garrus carefully worked himself out of her, the slick condom still wrapped tight around his manhood.

"Little help," he asked quietly. She remembered that he couldn't get the condom off without tearing the rubber with his talons, so she flopped onto her side then sat up, slipping it off. Garrus snickered, watching her hold a rubber balloon filled with his seed. She dropped it in the garbage can. She gave him a momentary angry look before eyeing him up, pleased.

"Now what?" she asked.

"How about round two?" After a slight delay, she pulled him back into the bunk.

Garrus and Calamity were pressed shoulder to shoulder with other passengers as they started to fill the corridor after landing. The two of them were in bad shape, with loose clothing and wild hair. The looks they got from passersby left them feeling a little ashamed, long enough to cast embarrassed sidelong glances at one another.

"Guess they heard us," she winced. The two of them had done little else in the past forty-eight hours except for sleep between marathon bouts of lovemaking. They reeked of sex, and the deep rosy color of Calamity's cheeks gave her away to any human with viewing distance. The two of them averted the gazes of passing strangers until they had an opportunity to push out into the crowd further.

It took thirty minutes until they were free of the throng, having lost one another on two separate occasions just getting down the loading dock. They stood, looking out across Vancouver from the edge of the shuttle bay. It was afternoon, and the usually blue sky was overcast with thick, gray clouds. Rain pounded down on the city, in between bouts of thunder and the occasional distant flash of lightning.

"So this is Earth," Garrus said, his mandibles twitching. The city spread out as far as the eye could see, one of the so-called 'megatropolises' covering the planet's surface. Off-white buildings stretched in all direction, interrupted only by small parks, walkways, or the occasional manmade river. Garrus guessed there must be hundreds of millions in just what he could se of the city. "It's like a ward on the Citadel."

"Just a little less diverse," she deadpanned, picking up what little luggage she had brought along. "Come on, we're getting some looks. Folks aren't used to turians this far north."

"We're more common in the south?" he asked.

"Larger enclaves mostly based on business interests," she said. "A lot of the big starship developers work out of Central and South America." Garrus accepted this, having no frame of reference to dispute it. Together they moved along a riverside boulevard. The scenery was a little depressing, with poorly dressed people going about their daily business. He hadn't noticed it before, but the shuttle dispatch was a rundown place; the ships had paint bleeding off them, chips in places, and there was hardly a holo interface in the joint. Crude signs indicated arrivals and departures. Palaven was mostly a prosperous planet, with few large cities and a number of smaller satellite enclaves. Since the war of Unification, the turian homeworld was relatively stable population-wise and suffered from little social or economic strife.

"Everyone looks so poor," he said quietly, a few steps behind Calamity.

"We're on the west side of Vancouver," she said. "It's a working class zone. Most humans who live here are laborers or grew up locally. The east end, across the river, is a lot nicer. Better architecture, local economy, culture. One thing humanity never quite got right was the gap between rich and poor." Garrus was honestly a little disturbed, reminded of Omega. His skin and clothes became slick with the falling rain.

"How do you live like this?" he asked. "I mean, why won't your government step in to make this right?"

"It's complicated," she said, turning a bit to look over her shoulder. "A few hundred years ago, democratic republics became the majority governmental model, based on ancient ideologies." Garrus tried to follow along, as they passed under an overhang, safe from the rain for a moment. "The problem wasn't in the principle," she continued. "Our party system, combined with corporate funding for political campaigns, made our leaders beholden to economic powers instead of national ones. In short, presidents and prime ministers had to return the favors incurred by campaign donations, and make good on their party's agenda."

"I'm not sure I understand," he admitted. "So you voted for leaders but they didn't affect change?"

"They did, just not always in the way most beneficial to certain classes of citizen. Reforms tended to favor the rich and exploit the poor, further dividing the two groups in terms of earning potential. Cities like Vancouver became starkly divided into labor zones and cultural zones. Once we ventured out into space, it became more important to corporate interests to make successful parts of our cities more viable for alien investors and tourists."

"I think I get it," he said.

"There's really not much to get," she droned. "When technology and culture move forward, inevitably someone gets left behind. Its just thanks to medical tech and standards of living that instead of the outclassed groups dying off, they persist in slums and poverty."

"That's horrible," he said.

"That's life. People leave for the colonies all the time to escape that kind of poverty, but we've both seen how dangerous that can be." He was sobered already by the realities of life on the human homeworld. "I know it sounds cold."

"No, I understand," he apologized. "Humans are still a young species compared to other Council races. It's to be expected that you'd have some problems to iron out yet." She shrugged, agreeing tacitly. "Where exactly are we going?" he asked, as they shouldered through crowds filling the streets.

"Somewhere out of the way," she said evasively.

"Could you be more specific?" he asked, bumping into some passersby, who gestured rudely at him.

"There's a place near the riverfront, down on the slope." She stopped and worked her way into an alley off the main street. Garrus followed suit, glad to be out of the crowd. She walked to the back of the alley, where stairs led down and out onto a slope stretching all the way down to the river, which wound its way through the city. He could see that lining the slope to his left and right were hundreds of small buildings and less recognizable structures built into the retaining walls, which rose up to the city streets.

"People live here, too?" he asked, squinting and trying to make out buildings on the other side of the river's edge.

"Thousands," she said. "There's a hostel down near the bridge where we'll be staying until the trial."

"We're living in a shack under the bridge?" he asked incredulously.

"Look on the bright side," she began. "You'll probably get to hear some other couples crying out each other's names in the night." Could he, he would have blushed, instead awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

"I'm not so sure about this, Shepard," he rumbled. "Aren't people going to talk if they see us together?"

"I promise, Garrus, this will be worth it." Garrus sighed.

"Alright… I trust you." She pulled him along with her, as they navigated the manmade ledges and shantytowns lining the river.


End file.
